


One More Night (The End Should Be a Good One)

by PinkGerberDaisies



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Heartbreak, Smut, sochi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: An angsty smutty one-shot about Scott and Tessa in Sochi after winning silver.Inspired by the song "One More Night" by Stars.





	One More Night (The End Should Be a Good One)

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to this song during a flight last weekend and the idea came to me to write a little ficlet about it. This is different from anything else I've ever written and I hope you guys enjoy it, and I'm sorry in advance.

The party in the athlete's village has been going on for hours. The crowds of people celebrating various wins or just having a good time ebbing and flowing as they dance and drink and enjoy each other's company and the feeling of competing for their country.

Tessa stands against a wall at the edge of a group of fellow Canadian skaters. People keep coming up to her to shake her hand or give her a hug – congratulating her on the silver medal hanging around her neck.

Through it all, Tessa smiles and laughs and says thank you as if the medal doesn’t weigh her down like a heavy reminder of the last four years of highs and lows – the growing sense of betrayal and abandonment by her coach, the loneliness of living in Michigan for so long, her inability to get the timing right with Scott.

Scott. Currently he is across the room indulging in his second or third beer and laughing with Chiddy. To everyone else he looks every bit of a happy Olympic medalist, but Tessa knows him. Knows the tight lines around his eyes and the way the muscles in his jaw clench periodically as he tries to stifle the emotion simmering underneath.

 

Tessa watches him, and she _knows_. They've never spoken the words out loud, but the way she feels tonight confirms what she had felt coming. Their competitive days are over. She needs a break. A chance to find out just who Tessa Virtue is away from the world of ice dance. Away from Canton. Just...

 

Away.

 

Scott glances over at her and the momentary eye contact is all it takes. With a nod at Chiddy he stands up and walks towards her. She takes his offered hand willingly, and when he looks at her as if to say “What now?” she leads him from the party and towards the Canadian team’s apartments.

 

They reach his room by unspoken mutual agreement - both of them know what’s going to happen next tonight. This kind of behavior isn’t new for them – although they tell the press and their families otherwise.

 

It had started after the 2008 World Championships – a culmination of their emotional high at winning the silver and the feelings that had been building for years that they could no longer seem to control. Since then, through the pain of her surgeries (both emotional and physical), his girlfriends and her boyfriends, they had tried to avoid _indulging_ in this particular activity for the sake of their partnership, but they often failed.

 

Tonight, Tessa didn’t want to avoid it. They had danced their hearts out here in Sochi. Left it all on the ice, and it hadn’t been enough. She made it through the medal ceremony with a smile on her face, but getting through their gala performance of Stay had been almost impossible. It was a miracle that she didn’t fall apart on the ice. Years of training helping her stay in character even as she wanted to wrap her arms around Scott and never let go.

 

A dance that they’d originally chosen to tell a generic story about heartbreak had become _their_ story. Personal. The story of a couple who wanted to make it work, but just couldn’t.

Her hand tightens on Scott’s – squeezing his fingers almost painfully as they reach his bedroom. A dark little heaven at the top of the stairs. The dim orange light from outside casting long shadows across the furniture.

 

The door clicks shut behind them and the room is thick with unspoken words. Tessa turns around to face Scott, keeping her expression as neutral as she can as she reaches to unzip his Team Canada jacket.

 

Scott, who wears his heart on his sleeve, his face revealing what he feels at any given moment,  _loves_  the emotional connection that sex brings. Likes to look her in the eyes, tell her how much he loves her, the things he likes doing to her and how she makes him feel, but Tessa can't handle that tonight. It would be too much. She knows she's being selfish, but she can't help it, so she stays silent and is relieved when Scott does too.

 

His hand comes up to stroke her cheek while she focuses on her task, and she can feel his eyes searching her face. She refuses to make eye contact, although she knows that’s what he wants, afraid to see his expression. Afraid to reveal hers. Here, in the dark of his bedroom, she just wants to pretend for a little longer. 

Pretend that they're still Virtue and Moir. Still a team. Still  _together_. 

 

She strips him of the jacket and tugs his shirt off, forcing him to drop his hand for a moment so that she can toss the garment to floor. As soon as his arms are free he brings one up to wrap around her hair, pulling just enough to force her to finally look at him.

 

His face is intense. Trying to suss out what she is thinking. But Tessa can’t allow that right now, so she surges up on her tiptoes and kisses him. Distracting him with her lips. Using her body to say what her voice cannot.

 

I want you. I wish I could keep you. I love you. _Goodbye._

She knows she’s spiraling out of control. She sees it in the way Scott’s eyes soften, gaze flickering across her face. But she needs this. She needs _him_. One last time. To ground her, tether her anger and disappointment and sadness to something real, something tangible. She knows this isn’t the right way to deal with her emotions. They should probably be talking. Sharing their plans for what happens now. Their future. But Tessa isn’t ready for that. Isn’t quite ready to break his heart. So she seeks oblivion in his body.

 

Her fingers tighten in his hair. She wants him to fuck her. It’s enough to flip the switch, must be, because he grabs her wrists and tugs them down to her side. She glances up at him out of habit and he refuses to break eye contact with her now that he’s achieved it. It’s a struggle for Tessa to keep a lid on all that she’s feeling. A talent of hers that she knows upsets him and rarely uses when they're alone. His jaw clenches in determination, and Tessa knows it will be a battle between them tonight. His soft look disappears and is replaced by something hotter than fire. He waits a moment, then walks her backwards with purpose. Tessa’s breaths grow ragged with each step. She lets herself be pulled into his gravity, skin tingling with the heat between them. Through it all, the one thing they had never lacked was passion. By the time the back of her knees hit the mattress, she’s almost panting.

 

He arches an eyebrow at her, wordlessly asking if she’s sure she wants this (he makes sure to check every time they're together), and Tessa responds by pressing her hips into his – relishing the feeling of him already half-hard and straining against his jeans. Scott’s eyes flash in warning, but instead of thrusting back he moves his hips away and focuses on dropping kisses along her collarbone – working his way down to her breasts. With the refocusing of his efforts he releases her from his intense gaze and she takes advantage of the opportunity to regroup and tighten the lid on her emotions. 

 

She swallows, fingers flexing against his hands on her wrists. The closeness, the shared breathing, is almost too much; bordering on something like intimacy, the opposite of what she wants. But it’s good, too. It always has been. Scott knows by now exactly how to make her body sing, and he’s currently doing some of his best work.

 

Tessa lets her steel façade fall for a moment as he focuses on each breast, releasing one of her wrists so that his hand can come up to play with the nipple opposite of the one his mouth is currently tugging on. Her free hand comes up to tangle in his hair - scratching at his scalp in the way she knows he likes. She can’t stop the gentle moans that escape her throat, and when her head falls back – momentarily too distracted by the pleasure to keep her reactions in check – she doesn’t see the way Scott smirks in triumph.

 

He drops to the floor, his hands gliding across the skin from her knees to her hips and back down. With each stroke he moves closer and closer to where she aches for him. When he finally lets his thumbs brush across her center, Tessa’s hips jerk forward at the contact. And then his mouth is there. His _tongue_. And she is lost. Consumed by him. It could be five minutes or five hours, she loses track of everything but what he makes her feel. But then he sucks on her clit, fingers grabbing her hips hard enough to leave bruises (something that will make her heart ache with longing for days after) and she peaks with a soundless moan – her legs turning to jelly. 

Before she can fall into his lap or let him embrace her, Tessa turns to the bed and gets down on her hands and knees. Determined to regain some semblance of distance between them. 

 

 ---------- 

 

Scott can tell that there’s something different about Tessa tonight. She seems sadder, more desperate. He doesn’t know if it’s the sharp sting of the silver medal or the knowledge that their competitive career is at an end. He’s not oblivious – could tell from the way her shoulders were tense all night and the resigned look behind every smile. It was time. They both needed a break from this world and all that went with it.

 

Something about her expression as he strokes her cheek, kisses her, touches her, is closed off from him. She’s making as little eye contact as possible. _Avoiding_ him. And it sets Scott on edge. He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like the way her green eyes remain distant and her smiles elusive. He tries forcing her to look at him, but she only makes eye contact for a second before her mouth is on his – hard, bruising kisses that are sure to leave his lips swollen tomorrow.

 

The only respite comes when he uses his mouth on her. When she thinks he isn’t looking. Her walls come down and she becomes _his_ Tessa again – mouth falling open in pleasure and eyes flashing with warmth. Scott feels a momentary sense of victory and it’s almost better than being on the podium earlier, but before she can fall into his waiting arms she turns away from him and gets on her hands and knees on the mattress. The emotional barriers coming right back up. 

 

 _Fine_. Scott thinks with a flash of anger. If that’s how she wants it, that’s how he will give it to her. Scott wastes no time divesting himself of his own constricting pants and crawling after her, the expression on his face dark and intense as he keeps his eyes glued to the curvature of her spine. He’ll start there tonight.

 

He runs his hand along the ridge of her back – caressing from top to bottom, letting his fingernails scratch slightly along the small of her back. Playing a scale across her vertebrae. Pleased when she shudders. He leans forward to press his erection against her ass, and Tessa smirks at him over her shoulder. The image of her – all smoldering smiles, messy ponytail, and waiting for him – is almost enough to make Scott take her right then. But he wants to draw this out. Punish her for withholding her emotions tonight of all nights. Tonight when they should be comforting each other. 

 

Her expression is too much like Carmen, and Scott doesn’t want that. Not actress Tessa – the seductress part that she played so successfully for the audience. Scott wants real Tessa. The woman who could be both sultry and sweet, but always with  a look of love and devotion in her eyes. The woman who he hopes to begin a different kind of future with tomorrow.

 

Her breath catches when he slides his cock, hot and heavy, between her sensitive folds. She’s wet, so wet, and he knows all it will take is a slight change in angle – just an inch – to enter her, but he waits.

 

The fire inside him licks at his bones, telling him to _go_. But he’s determined to get what he wants first. He refuses to fuck Carmen when he wants Tessa. And so he just glides between her legs, drawing out the sensations, stroking along her rib-cage and reaching around to caress her breasts – light touches that are just enough to keep her on edge without pushing her over.

 

Tessa refuses to look at him, even as her breath becomes more labored and her body starts shaking with restraint – waiting for him, but refusing to give in. Until Scott bends down and presses his lips to the middle of her back and a broken _please_ escapes her in an unwilling whisper. It feels like a small victory, and it's enough for Scott. 

 

When he enters her, finally, it feels like a spark struck against kindling, like gasoline thrown into the fire. He rolls his hips into hers steadily, the friction sweeter than anything he’s ever felt. And Scott is lost.

 

He’s always lost with Tessa. With and without her. She’s like the oxygen he needs to breathe. He would follow her anywhere – into and out of ice dancing, to Kitchener, to Canton, to wherever the hell she wants to go now. Tonight is an ending in so many ways, but Scott also feels like it’s a new beginning. The relationship they’ve denied themselves of having for over half a decade feels just within his reach and he’s ready. All in.

 

He begins to tell her he loves her. Feels the words leaving his lips. Words he’s said on ice and before and after shows so often. Whispered between bedsheets. But Tessa stops him by lurching forward – pulling away from him.

 

Before he has a chance to react she’s turning around and pushing him down onto his back. And there she is. Finally. The same lust, passion, and rage that had fueled their Carmen performance all last year, but this time unconstrained – meshing with the other emotions of love and tenderness and affection and… grief.

 

Scott wants to ask her about it, wants to sit up and have a conversation about why she's being like this, but she doesn’t give him a chance. Sinking down on him so fast that they both hiss at the feeling. She places both of her hands on his wrists on the mattress, effectively pinning him down, and begins moving up and down with intent. Totally in control now. All Scott can do is thrust up with his hips as she chases her pleasure. She still doesn’t look at him. Her head thrown back as she works towards her climax. And Scott both loves and hates it – missing the connection they usually share.

 

Her orgasm comes on like a sudden storm, momentarily weakening her hold on him and giving him the chance to flip them over. He hitches one of her legs up with his arm, his other hand coming up to caress the side of her face – holding her in place so that her eyes are inches from his own. She keeps them closed, but Scott is determined to stay where he is until she looks at him again.

 

He moves against her at an excruciatingly slow pace. Her hands flying to his hair when he skates against something inside of her that makes her toes curl. She gasps, eyes finally flicking open to meet his, and Scott smiles, dropping a quick kiss to her lips as a reward as he focuses on winding her back up with his hips. He keeps a steady rhythym – relentless in the fact that he refuses to go any faster, no matter what she does. When she tries to sit up and move, he presses her back down. When she starts to whimper, almost begging, he slows down. He knows the pace is driving her out of her mind, but he won’t give her what she wants until she connects with him.

 

Her eyes finally open again, shining with unshed tears that Scott wasn’t expecting, and he relents. Peppering her face with soft, adoring kisses, he catches her mouth in a sloppy kiss and speeds up his pace. It’s not long before she’s coming again, this time her green eyes staying connected with his own brown ones, giving him what he wants, and the feeling of her tightening around him makes him go taut – jerking against her several more times as he rides out his own orgasm before burying his face in her neck and letting out a gust of air.

 

He rolls off her a moment later, satisfied at her sated expression – dismissing any hint of tears as a trick of the light. He wraps her up in his arms, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

 

“I love you, Tessa.” He says confidently, finally breaking their silence. His voice cutting through the darkness. She doesn’t respond – instead her arms tighten around his rib-cage – and Scott feels for the first time that night that something might truly be  _wrong_.

 

But he’s exhausted and sleep starts pulling at him almost immediately. Whatever it is, they can talk about it tomorrow. After all, they have a whole future waiting for them.

 

 

The next morning Scott wakes as the sunlight peeks through the curtains - hitting him in the eyes and forcing him to face the dawn. Blindly he reaches out across the mattress, hand coming up with nothing but empty air. The other side of the bed has already cooled. His eyelids shoot open and he sits up, looking around the room for any sign of Tessa. But there isn’t one. Not a shred of evidence that last night happened except for the lingering smell of her on his sheets and the pain that tightens around Scott’s heart like a vice.

 

 

She’s already gone.


End file.
